Darkest Dreams
by A Mere Idea
Summary: There was only one way to describe the Dark Dream: the unholy offspring of a boggart and a cauldron of Amortentia itself. And Rose Weasley was caught inside it.
1. Nightmares

**Summary:** An accident during an experimental Potions assignment traps Rose in a cursed Dream that is hell-bent on making sure she doesn't come out without a broken, battered soul.

 **Disclaimer:** Unless, through some stroke of luck, I am bequeathed with Rowling's future estate, I do not, and never will, own Harry Potter.

 **Dark Dreams**

He was laughing at something his date was saying, and Rose could barely contain her surprise. The great, ever-stoic _Scorpius Malfoy_ was _laughing_ , and, of all things, seemingly enjoying a date that he had, moments ago, sworn that he would hate.

The sound of his merriment tugged at Rose's heartstrings, though _tugged_ seemed a mild way to describe the painful, wrenching sensation that gripped her chest made her tighten her jaw. She shouldn't have listened to Al, shouldn't have followed his little nudge to take his father's invisibility cloak. However, she had been tempted with a treat too enticing to ignore – the chance to see Scorpius Malfoy, the reluctant Prince of Ravenclaw House, stumbling through another of his dates. It had happened too many times that Rose was sure that was what was going to happen this time: the rebellious Malfoy at his worst. His worst made Rose happy, not _truly_ happy, as would a sadist, but happy because at least, she knew, that Scorpius was hers alone.

Rose clenched her fists and tried to steady her breathing. There was no use breaking down in the middle of Honeyduke's, even if no one could see her, _especially_ if no one could see her.

She heard him laugh again, and this time, she felt the sound resonate in her ears. She was selfish, she knew that, maybe even evil. He, of course, had the right to be happy. That was the one thing Rose wanted most in the world, second to being happy right next to him. Still, it hurt. It hurt that someone was better at making him happy. It hurt that with that girl, he seemed more at ease than he had ever been. It hurt that right here, where Rose was nowhere near, he was different, happier, and better than she had ever seen him.

As she watched them, talking and laughing, she tasted salt on her lips. She wiped away the tears with the back of her hand with a deep, heavy, sigh. Maybe she just wasn't as good a friend as she thought. Maybe she was just a destructive influence. Maybe she really was just one the girls he hated, those disillusioned fangirls who were deluded in their thinking that Scorpius Malfoy actually noticed them, actually knew their names. Well, he knew her name – they'd known each other's names before they even laid eyes on each other – but deluded, she might be. Maybe all those years, acting like his best friend, she really was just some random girl who thought she was good enough for a Malfoy, even if her parents were part of the Golden Trio.

Her knees gave way from under her, with a soft thud that barely made a difference in the busy, noisy action of Hogsmeade's popular meeting place. Then, she saw it – a blur of darkness at the corner of her eye, the lack of movement right when she stopped looking. Everything had stopped moving, and a veil of shadows was moving up on her.

The Dark Dream. She was in the Dark Dream, she realized, but why would it show a scene that would surely make her want to leave? She wracked her brain for a reason, searching the room desperately for a way out of the confounded place, when her eyes landed on the couple. He was looking at her – or at least, in her direction – and for a moment, as though she weren't under an invisibility cloak, she could pretend that he was looking at her, that _she_ made him stop and stare. Godric, she lived for those moments.

It was then that she realized why the Dream had chosen her. For a creature, a being, that dwelled on suffering and sorrow, it had to find a sustainable source of food, something or someone that could be kept hoping, wishing, despite being shown the most soul-crushing visions that any mind could conjure. She was food for the creature that fed on her own personal penance, a creature that was bent on keeping her from leaving.

Her vision blurred and darkened. She had become aware, and the creature had been forced to change tactics. She could only hope the Dream knew some form of mercy, at least. When she heard the yelling, she knew she was wrong.

"How can you be so goddamn useless?" her mother practically spat in her face.

"Can't you do anything right?" Her father threatened to throw a broken piece of glass at her face.

"Why are you so fucking stupid? Are you retarded?"

"You disappoint me."

"You are the most disgusting person I have ever met!"

"You are no child of mine,"

Rose found herself crawling, reaching out for her mother's foot in a desperate attempt to keep her from leaving. She screamed at Hermione's retreating form. Her throat dried from shouting, for penance, for forgiveness, for mercy. There were no such things in this Dark Dream.

The moment the creature knew that she knew, the scene changed, and she almost felt her heart stop. She was in the middle of a meadow, with the perfect breeze, and the perfect sky, and the perfect view. She looked up, and realized that she was lying her head on Scorpius's lap, his fingers casually brushing through her curls. He smiled down at her, and her heart almost stopped. He had such a beautiful smile.

"Rose," he whispered his voice irreverent. "My Rose, my beautiful, wonderful Rose,"

She felt her jaw quiver, both in happiness and in fear. At the back of her mind tugged the knowledge that this was a Dream, a Dark Dream, but she knew, she also knew, that the second she acknowledged that, she would be forced to leave this paradise, only her and only him, the two of them, together. The warmth of his hand, entwined in hers, was something she thought no dream could ever conjure. The look in his eyes more loved, more caring, than she could have imagined. In this dream, at least, he seemed to love her.

He cupped her face with his hand, and leaned down, as if to kiss her. The distance lessened with every millisecond, until she could feel his breath on her lips.

Then the dream changed and she found herself crying once more.

She was on a hospital bed in the infirmary, with a set of medicine bottles and flowers by her bedside table. Had someone saved her? A voice in her head was wishing that no one had. Maybe she could have stayed in the dream after all, if only to feely his imaginary warmth and his imaginary presence. If that was the only way, if only to see him look at her like that, as though there truly was something more, the life-draining Dream was worth it, if only for that brief window of paradise.

"Rose?"

She froze. That voice, _his_ voice. No. He stood at the foot of her bed, his eyes wide in surprise. In a second, he was beside her. He cupped her face in his hands, his own face flashing with worry and concern. He removed his eyes for a brief second, a second that left Rose shortly cold before he put his arms around her in a tight embrace.

"I like this one," she whispered into the air, silently wishing that the Dark Dream would listen, even as the tears fell once more. "Let me stay in this one. I won't ask to leave, I promise,"

Scorpius stiffened in her arms. He placed his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back to see the streak of tears down her face. "Rose?" He actually looked as though he cared, and that was enough to break her.

She buried her face in her hands. "At least let me pretend," she begged. "Let me pretend that all of this is real, and I'll stay. I'll stay."

"Rose, I love you,"

The scene changed.

 _ **Author's Note**_ : _Before anything else, I would like to apologize for that unfortunate cliffhanger. I had this idea at two in the morning, and I just had to get it out of my head for my own peace of mind. Granted, it's not as good as I would have hoped, since this is actually the first fanfiction I've posted in six years, after I abandoned my other Fanfiction account._

 _Now that it's out, I would absolutely LOVE to have your comments/suggestions/reactions to the story. There's a second chapter idea lingering in the back of my mind. Should I write it?_


	2. The White Room

**THE WHITE ROOM**

The scene changed, though changed from what, I had no idea

The room is white. Everything. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, the furniture. Except for the streak of blood behind him. That guy. Scorpius. Why do I know his name? Why would I know his name?

"Rose,"

I know that voice. Why do I know that voice? It's coming from somewhere, somewhere near. It's coming from Scorpius. Scorpius. He's kneeling in the corner, looking at me with those eyes, and the look of disappointment and betrayal in those eyes, the looks that wound more than – Scorpius. Scorpius. Now why do I know that name?

"Rose, listen,"

A guy. There's a guy in my room. Why is there a guy in my room? He's talking to me. Right? Rose? That's my name. Why does he know my name? It is my name, right? It hurts. It hurts so much.

 **x**

" _Rose, Rose!"_

 _It's him. He's here again, that oh-so-polished prince of Ravenclaw, that smug bastard. So, okay, I may have to stop calling him that, but I just can't stop smiling when I see the look on his face whenever I call him that. So cute._

" _What's wrong with the world now,_ Master _Scorpius?" I looked up from my book. Well, there goes the chapter on International Wizarding Law. It's not like I needed to study, anyway._

" _Personally, I preferred it when you called me 'bastard'," I don't even bother to look up to know that he's scowling again. Oh that little scowl. So cute._

 _I chuckled, and he chuckled along with me. Fun times. Good times. Wonderful –_

 **x**

"Rose, what are you doing?"

He's still here. That boy. He's still in my room. No one else can be in my room. I'm pretty sure someone told me that, someone important, someone who's not here, but I'm still pretty sure that it's someone important. Pretty sure.

The boy. He's cringing. In pain? Why is he cringing? He doesn't even look hurt. Except…except now he is. He's bleeding. Why is he bleeding?

But there's something else.

My hand. Something cold. There's something cold in my hand. Something metal. Something hot. A smoking gun. A literal smoking gun, and I, I just shot it. My fingers are curled around the handle, my index finger fixed on the trigger.

I shot someone. And it hurts. Why does it hurt? Why does a wound that doesn't exist hurt so much? It hurts so much. So, so much.

 **x**

" _You're a crazy little bastard. You know that, right?"_

 _He put his hand around my shoulder. That feels good. My overprotective bastard and I, just sitting here, on the balcony of my room, balancing on the bannister, surrounded by the magnificent view of the lake. My favorite place in the world._

" _You've been telling me that for years." He smiled, and there goes that little dimple in his cheek. "Did you really think I was listening?"_

" _Of course, I didn't. You never listen," I smiled back at him. "Though, if you're not going to listen, at least promise me one thing, Scorpius."_

 _He tightened his grip on my shoulder. "Anything."_

 _My favorite place in the world, this is. If only we could stay forever._

" _Never leave me."_

 **x**

He's dying. He's dying right in front of my eyes, and all I could do is watch him, over and over and over again. And everything is cold, so very cold. I'm not sure if I've ever been this cold, not like this, the type of cold that comes from the very core of your body, seeping into your bones, into your skin. Why? Why is this happening to me? Why me? Why this? Why now?

"Rose," He's lying on the floor, a red puddle of blood forming around him. He's dying. I shot him, and he's bleeding and now, he's dying, staining white with red.

And then there's that look in his eyes again. And once again, I'm confused. What does it mean? What is he trying to say? Why does it still hurt?

"If only," I hear myself whisper. Now why did I say that?

 **x**

" _What's got you so hyped up?" I asked him. He's looking especially excited today. I wonder why. He grinned at me. He never grins. What just happened?_

 _He's practically jumping. It's freaking me out._

" _Let me guess." I sighed. This is always the part I disliked the most, the parts that required my sighing. "You just finished an episode of-"_

" _I met a girl," he blurted out, and suddenly, the room was little bit colder. "It's been going on for a while now. She's…amazing,"_

" _Amazing girl, huh?" I said, trying to focus on the cracks in the ceiling. I think there's even a pattern there. I'm not hurt or anything, no sign of heartbreak anywhere. Heartbreak is for stupid people. Not for me. Never for me. "You bastard, you,"_

 **x**

I remember now.

"Rose, why?"

Everything. Scorpius. The gun. The white room. The betrayal. But I guess, it never was his betrayal.

"Rose, promise me something. Please. You can forget about me, but please, promise me this." The look in his eyes, that desperate smile.

But it still hurts. My chest is tight, there are tears welling in my eyes. And yet, it still hurts.

"Don't hurt her. Please, even if you kill me, please don't let anyone hurt her."

It hurts. And you see, it never was his betrayal, because – because it was mine.

 _Bang!_

 **x**

" _Rose! Rose, come here. Please,"_

 _My shoulders shook, my chest tightened, tears welled up in my eyes. Everything was so simple now. Just one step, one simple step, and everything ends. The pain. The hurt. The heartbreak._

" _You left me," I looked back at him, balancing myself on the balcony bannisters like we've always practiced. "I told you to promise me one thing. Never leave me."_

" _Rose, don't do this. Please,"_

" _But you never listen, do you?" I tried my best to smile at him. "You said so yourself,"_

 _The moments. The smiles. The laughter. If only the pain and the joy balanced themselves out. But they don't. Maybe. Not anymore. And all it takes is just one step._

 _And everything ends._

 **x**

"How is she?"

The main in the lab coat sighed, and put his pen in his pocket. He looked at the young man, the young man who had been asking that very same question over and over, day after day, for the past year, the young man who had sat at the side of that hospital bed for so long.

"Same as she always is, I'm afraid," the doctor said. He looked at the bed, at the young woman lying there with sensors and tubes and wires just to keep her breathing. "You seem like a nice boy, Scorpius, but I have to be frank about this. Her chances, after a year, they're not –"

"I'm not leaving her again, doctor," Scorpius said, curling a stray hair strand around the young woman's ear. "I'm right here. Always. Right here. Just this once, Rose, please. Wake up. And this time, I'm going to listen. I promise."

 **x**

The room is white. Everything. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, the furniture. Except for him. That guy. Scorpius. Why do I know his name? Why would I know his name?

He sat at the side of the bed, the white bed, with the white blanket, and the white pillows. He buried his head in his hands.

"You're awake!" he blurted out, pulling me into his arms. It's…nice. Why? Shouldn't I be running away? Stay away from strangers. Someone's told me that before. Stay away from Scorpius. Someone has told me that before, too.

"I'll never leave you again, I promise. I promise."

He put his arms around me. That feels good. Just this stranger and I, sitting here, in the bed of this white room, surrounded by tubes and monitors and the smell of antiseptic in the air.

And in that moment, that was my favorite place in the world. I had a feeling this was the best Dream I've ever had.


End file.
